The Great and Powerful Homer
by Ellie 5192
Summary: They say a dog is man's best friend. Jack's inclined to agree. He's not too happy that his beloved friend Homer has been stolen, but he can kind of understand. He can't blame the dog for finding someone better. S/J est. AU/Post show. Character death.


_Grandpa asked me to write the life of a dog, and Homer immediately popped into my head. I thought I'd put it up here, so you all could read it. _

_Enjoy._

_The Great and Powerful Homer_

_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

The puppy was a spur of the moment thing, really. He wasn't sure how to raise the subject of kids, or if she even wanted kids… but when the idea came up to get a puppy, he thought it might be a great test run. His first suggestion had been a cat for her- another Schrodinger- but she'd surprised him and suggested a dog instead, since he loved them so much. 8 years of working side-by-side, 18 months of dating, finally making it down the aisle 8 months after that… at least she knew he loved dogs.

They'd gone to the pound, rather than the pet shop. Granted, a few scans of the pet shop had given them some ideas, but there was that whole 'give a puppy a second chance' thing that made the pound all the more inviting.

He'd never seen Sam coo so much. There were more adult dogs than puppies, but the small cage out the back held a great selection of dogs, all shapes and sizes, all sorts of colours.

He'd picked up a miniature poodle that was sitting near his feet while he watched Sam pat the others. A rainbow of Labradors, poodles, collies, shepherds and a few mutts surrounded her, all wagging their tails. After a short time Sam stood and Jack put the dog down, and they made their way to the door of the pen, a little disappointed that no dog had immediately grabbed their attention. All the puppies scattered, back to playing with their balls and each other, sensing the games were over. All except one.

A tiny fluff ball, barely old enough to be away from its mother, bounded out of a tunnel, unsteady on his legs, his eyes big and curious. While his peers played, he walked fearlessly up to Jack and sat on his foot, his tiny tail waging. Jack picked him up easily with one hand and sat him the crook of his elbow. Sam rubbed his head, and the puppy in return licked her hand with fervour.

Sam giggled.

Actually giggled.

And Jack, finding the scene just too cute, chuckled back.

There was no doubt- this little guy was coming home with them.

The puppy was black and fluffy. The woman at the counter said he was apparently a cross between a German Shepherd, a Collie, and a Spaniel of some sort, though he had no papers and had been left in a box at the steps of the pound. The whole way home the two new 'parents' discussed names.

Bingo, Bongo, Jingo, Poncho, Pongo, Ben, Bomber, Max and Buddy were mutually excluded. With great emphasis. And a few snorts thrown in.

Sam liked Andy, Toby, Eddie, George (in honour of their late General), Luke and Jake (after her late father Jacob, which she thought was hilarious).

Jack wanted Homer. Bart, if absolutely necessary. He'd consider Moe, last resort.

Sam rolled her eyes and told him she didn't want a Simpson's character living in her house for the next fifteen years of their life. When they got home Sam carried the puppy and Jack welcomed Homer to his new house.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The kids never came. They left it up to mother nature, letting her decide, but given the physical tole of a lifetime of armed combat for both of them, plus the physiological changes to Sam's body, it just wasn't meant to be.

The dog became their baby.

When Jack was allowed to retire again- because for a short time the universe didn't throw them another enemy, vague bad-guy or even annoying pain- and Sam, after a couple of years on the ship _Hammond,_ was given a command as head of the labs at the SGC, they settled into a routine. The bigwigs had seen her new position as a demotion. She'd seen it as a chance to spend time with her husband. Maybe even see her brother and family. Perhaps work on her vintage Indian, or finally invest in those cello lessons she had wanted since she was a kid. Jack was always telling her to get a life outside her lab. Now that her lab was her job and not her hobby, she could.

And Homer was there every step of the way.

He was a smart dog, but seemed rather dopey. He flopped on the couch during the day- even though they had mentioned once a rule about animals on furniture- but would eagerly join Sam on her morning runs. Going on 46, and she still insisted on doing her five miles every morning. Something about it reminding her of the old days.

Jack would take him out in the afternoons if Sam worked a little late. He had one of those toy arms that you could use to fling the ball, and it was certainly worth its weight in gold. His knees weren't what they used to be, so he didn't run as much. He did, however, take great pride in shouting 'Homer' across the field of the dog park near their house.

Sam would join him if she came home in time. It became a ritual of sorts, as did their Saturday morning stroll to the café a few blocks away. After about a year there was a permanent dog bowl at the door of said café, though the owner never said why. Homer didn't complain.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jack flicked through the mail while absently walking down the corridor to the open kitchen. Bill. Bill. Advertising. Something for the previous owner who hadn't given forwarding addresses. Bill. He flicked again and saw an envelope addressed to Mr and Mrs O'Neill. He ripped it open and pulled out a single picture of a sonogram. Flipping it over a handwritten note read 'Surprise, Aunty Sam. We didn't expect it either'

Jack laughed. Sam looked up from her paper at the kitchen table, her glasses perched on her nose. She hated that she now needed them, and insisted on contacts for work, though she hated those too. She was eating toast with one hand, the dogs head resting over her lap waiting for the crust, while her other hand scratched behind his ear.

"What?" she asked, vaguely letting the dog take the rest of her toast from her hand.

Jack held up the picture with a lingering grin and Sam frowned.

"Mark. Apparently Jen's pregnant again"

"What?!" she asked, her eyes wide. Mark, at 44, was three years younger than Sam. Jen wouldn't be two years younger than that. This definitely would have been a surprise pregnancy, with their oldest- Sarah- graduated and Ben at college. They'd only recently relocated to the Springs from San Diego to be closer to college for the kids. Welcome home!

"Yep. A boy, if I remember how to read these things right"

Sam burst out laughing. "That's unbelievable! At his age, he'd be kicking himself"

Jack set the picture on the table and got the phone. Twenty minutes later Sam was still laughing at Mark's reaction over the phone line. Apparently he'd forgotten about cravings and morning sickness. And nappy changing. And midnight feedings.

Sam promised to be the best Aunty in the world (now that she was actually on the world and not across a galaxy), and offered to be the permanent, free babysitter whenever she was needed. Jack suspected she wanted to be a lot closer to this new baby than she was to its siblings, and judging by how close she was to young Cassie- who had always looked on her as a third mother after loosing both her mother and Janet- this baby would provide an outlet for her motherly tendencies. As hardened as she was as a soldier, she had still wanted a baby.

"You okay?" he asked, and she knew he was asking about their previous lack of luck on the baby front.

"Yeah. It wasn't meant to be for us. And, really, we would have been in the same boat. We only got married a couple of years ago ourselves. At least Mark's had practice"

Sam slightly winced. She did her best to avoid mention of Charlie, and she'd just gone and done it anyway. It had been over fifteen years, but the death of his son was still a raw wound. Jack shrugged.

"We would have been okay", he said lightly, brushing off the subtle hint as though he hadn't noticed it. Which of course, he had.

"Ah well", she said brightly. "At least we have _this_ baby", she said affectionately, playfully roughing up Homer's head. The dog's bum wiggled as he wagged his tail, and his tongue hung out of his mouth, licking at Sam's hand. She laughed at the dog, and Jack smiled across the table. He picked up her plate and cup as he stood, brushed his lips across the top of her head, and placed her dishes in the sink. They didn't have it too bad, even if they didn't have the baby to complete the picture.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Jake, Jake, no sweetheart. Don't pull him. No, Jake"

Homer didn't seem to mind. He was being used as the walking frame for the youngster, who at 11 months was still finding his feet. Unbelievably patient for a dog that wasn't always around small children, Homer didn't even seem to notice the tugging at his fur.

"Good thing we didn't name the dog Jake too" said Jack.

"I think Dad would have preferred to have his grandson named after him, rather than your dog, Jack" she replied, giving him a mocking eyebrow raise.

Jack only shrugged. "Dad liked me. He would have understood"

Sam rolled her eyes. It was a week until her 48th birthday, and she had insisted on minding Jake for a night to give Mark and Jen a night off. An early birthday present of sorts for herself. Jake knew Aunty Sam's house almost as well as he knew his own, and Jack was planning on taking Sam away for the weekend of her birthday. Mark had called and asked about getting Sam a kitten for her birthday- a throwback to her twelfth birthday when she had begged their mother for one. Jack had decided that a kitten would be a perfect addition. Homer would just have to adjust, and with Jack now liaising at the SGC as a training supervisor three days a week, a kitten would give the dog company during the day. Plus, Sam loved cats, and perhaps they'd find a name other than Schrodinger.

"Jake", she cooed to the boy. "Come to Aunty Sam. Come on. Come here"

She was holding out her hands from across the room, and the little boy grinned and gurgled before setting out on unsteady legs towards her. Homer didn't move. Even as Sam called to them, and his tail wagged, he stayed steady. As Jake got further away from his body he gently moved along side him, escorting the boy.

Jack stared and Sam laughed in disbelief.

"Homer. I wanted Jake to walk by himself" she said, her voice tinted with wonder. The dog's tongue flopped out, and he looked like he was grinning. Jake didn't understand what was going on, but he was sick of not being the centre of attention, and started to step away from the dog again. This time Homer stayed still, and with a slight wobble, Jake stepped away and let go of the dog. Sam held out her arms, and he took another step, before nosediving into them.

"Hey! That's my boy. Well done, little man. You walked. You walked", she cooed, bouncing the boy. He laughed and clapped, though Jack was sure he still had no idea what he was clapping for.

"Homer, come here" called Jack, and the dog bounded over to him, all tongue and tail. "You're a good boy. Where'd you learn to do that, huh? Where?"

The dog licked his chin and Jack pushed him back, but didn't scold him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The kitten proved to be a hit. Sam loved the little fluff ball- another pound adoption, as per Jack's request. Mark presented him in a little box with a ribbon and everything, and Sam had thought it was the cutest present ever. Punching his arm, she had asked why he was never that sweet when they were young.

'Old age', he replied, which earned him another punch. She was his older sister and it was her birthday.

After a cautious sniff that scared the little thing so much it shook, Homer walked off, all but ignoring it. The kitten followed. Homer flopped onto his dog bed next to the fireplace. This kitten followed. It sniffed the dogs' head, then it's ear, then playfully bounded around Homer's paw. The dog didn't move. In fact, if Jack were a reader of dog expressions, he could have sworn Homer was rolling his eyes at the kittens' antics.

A few hours later, when dinner had been eaten, the kitten loved to death and the baby was asleep, Mark and Jen excused themselves and went home. Jack and Sam walked back into the living room to find Homer asleep on his bed and the kitten curled up next to him, purring so loud they could hear it across the room.

It would become a familiar scene.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Homer! Homer! Come here boy"

Sam watched from the park bench as the dog bound across the open space, the tennis ball almost falling out of his mouth. Beside her sat Jake, the five year old shovelling his sandwich as fast as possible so he could resume playing.

"Hey there bucko, slow down" said Jack, ruffling his hair as he came around the other side of the bench. He passed Sam her drink and sat down next to her, absently throwing the ball for the dog again. Jack often found himself comparing Jake to Charlie, and was saddened by the fact that he had missed so much of his own son's childhood because he'd been stationed overseas. Most days the boys were completely different, Jake much more boisterous than Charlie had ever been. Then, out of the blue, he'd say something in the same voice or give the same look, and Jack would find himself momentarily stunned, struggling to bring himself back to the present. He knew Sam noticed, but she never mentioned it. There were certain topics that they never went near, and his son was one of them.

"So, Jake, how do you like school?" asked Sam.

The little boy shrugged. "It's okay. I have three new friends- Ben, Tom and Becca. They're nice. Becca's an only child, and Tom has a dog that looks just like mine"

Sam grinned. Jake had always claimed Homer as his own, explaining as only a five year old could that Homer was technically his, but because Uncle Jack was home all day and they don't have a little kid, Homer needed to stay with Aunty Sam to keep them company. The dog never seemed to mind.

"That's great buddy", said Jack, also grinning.

"I was wondering… we have show and tell at school, and we have a roster for it, and my teacher said that I was going to be on this week. Could I take Homer as my show and tell? I'd like all my friends to meet him"

Jack looked at Sam for confirmation, but he already knew the answer.

"Sure. No problem. What time is show and tell?"

"We do it after recess and I'm on Thursday"

"I'll make sure Homer is there"

"Really?!", he asked, eyes lighting up.

"Absolutely. Only if that's okay with Homer"

The dog, as though sensing that he was being discussed, came back to them and sat next to Jake, sniffing the abandoned crusts of his sandwich. Jake gave them to him willingly, while scratching his ears.

"Is that okay Homer?"

The dog licked Jake in response and wagged his tail.

"I think Homer wants to go", said Sam from behind a giggle.

"I think so too" said Jake earnestly.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Hi. My talk today is about my dog Homer. Homer is named after Homer Simpson, but Aunt Sam likes to say it's after this old guy who did books. Homer lives with my Aunt Sam and Uncle Jack…"

The boy pointed at his Uncle who stood at the back of the room. The dog was sitting patiently at the boy's feet, unmoving even without a lead.

"… because they have a bigger backyard and Uncle Jack is at home and needs company. But really he's my dog because he loves me the most. I taught Homer how to shake my hand, and he likes to eat my crust of my toast"

The teacher and Jack shared knowing smirks. As though the dog would say no.

"Homer's best friend- other than me- is my Aunt Sam's cat, Galileo, who everyone just calls Leo. Leo likes to sleep on Homer's head, but Homer doesn't mind, because they are friends. Homer likes to play with me in the park, and he's very friendly. He is…"

The boy looked to his Uncle for confirmation. Jack held up nine fingers, knowing that despite all the practice the little boy had done, he always forgot Homer's age.

"…nine years old, which is kind of old for a dog like him. Homer likes to sleep in my room when I stay with my Aunt and Uncle. He's a very good listener and his favourite book that I read him is Spot the Dog"

The speech was delivered with the earnest that only a child can muster, every point given weight and value; every fact told as though it were the most important in the world.

The class clapped and Jack joined in. With the teacher's blessing the children spent the next twenty minutes patting and playing with Homer, and the dog loved every second of it. Though he kept a weather eye out for trouble, Jack stayed at the back of the room, trusting Jake with the dog's safety the way they trusted Homer to look out for the boy. The teacher made her way over to Jack with a smile. She was young- no more than 25- and attractive, if still a little green and slightly out of touch with 21st century preschoolers. Apparently she'd been from a small town.

"Mr. O'Neill, I can't thank you enough for letting us steal your dog for half the day. I know Jake was so happy to show him. Homer is all he ever talks about, you know"

"Ah, it was my pleasure. Homer doesn't seem to mind"

"He is a wonderful dog. So patient. Has he always been around kids?"

"Not at first. My wife and I don't have children. But once Jake came along the two were inseparable. We always had Jake over as a baby and a toddler. He'd only go to day care three times a week and I'd mind him the rest. As I'm sure you've guessed, Jake was a surprise addition to our family"

"Ha, yes, Jennifer was telling me about the day she got the news. She was not the first middle age mother we've had at the school, but she's one of the few who had her child, shall we say, without planning"

"Without even a thought" said Jack with good humour. The teacher gave an appreciative grin.

"And yourself? Have you and Sam wanted children?"

"We considered it. But with our combat history, a few medical problems here and there, I guess it wasn't on the cards for us. Homer was the baby for a while… then we've become sort of a second home for Jake. With Jen and Mark working full time- I'm retired… it was just easy for him to stay with us during the day. He just loves Homer's company"

"Yes, I see the way Jake claims the dog as his own" she said, smirking.

"And always has" replied Jack, returning the expression. "I have a rule that every kid has got to have a dog. Since Jen and Mark don't have a huge backyard, I don't mind if Jake keeps his dog at our place"

The teacher smiled at him, watching as he watched the children, and realised he was serious about both his 'rule' and his opinion that the dog was mostly Jake's. She admired him for that. Despite the fact he said he'd never had children, he had a way with them that she'd rarely seen in hardened men- a feeling that perhaps he understood children more than he understood adults. They went back to watching the children, and Jack knew he'd never seen Jake more proud than he was at that very moment. Standing next to his dog.

He was beaming.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

By the time Homer was 14, Jake was an energetic ten-year-old, Sam had finally thrown in the towel and retired, taking on a consultancy status at the SGC, and Jack was feeling his age. Despite the fact they hardly ever noticed the fourteen year age gap, with Jack being long out of the Air Force and Sam's brain still considered a national treasure, he was beginning to notice subtle things. To fight the growing gap he'd taken to upping his exercise, joining her at the gym three times a week. She went to the treadmills, he went to the pool. One can only compromise so much.

Homer, too, was feeling the effects of age. At fourteen he was lucky to be with them still, his breed saying he should have left them a few years ago. He had arthritis in his back legs so he couldn't run as much as before, and he sleep more during the day than ever before. Jack had noticed lately his movements were getting slower and slower, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, it would seem that the most humane thing to do would be to put their best friend out of his misery.

The only time Homer really seemed animated anymore was when Jake came over.

He was a big boy now, and with his school and his friends, he really only made it over on weekends every few weeks. He still considered Homer his own; though with age he had learned that he was in fact Jack and Sam's.

Galileo that cat had unfortunately passed on about a year ago after getting cancer. It wouldn't have been fair to keep him around.

Now they were faced with telling Jake that his beloved best friend was getting too old and too sick to keep with them. That his body was shutting down and it wasn't fair to let him suffer. That the best thing they could do for him would be to give him love and hugs and then let him go in peace.

Sam cried for an hour just _thinking_ about poor Jake's face when they broke the news.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Apparently Homer had other ideas about how he wanted to go.

After booking a pet appointment they invited Jake over for the weekend to spend Homer's last days with his buddy. Jake had fallen asleep crying over the news, but had understood that Homer was in a lot of pain. He insisted on coming with them to the vet the next afternoon, despite Jen's protest. He wanted to be there to farewell his best friend.

The dog seemed to know what was going on. He sensed that he was getting more treats than usual. That his family was spending every second with him in a way they never had before. That Jake was sad. He just knew, and it broke Jack's heart. Sometimes he loved that dogs were smart, because it made them easier to talk to. Better talking to a smart dog than a dumb fish. But when Homer looked at him with his sad eyes as if to say 'I understand why. And I thank you. But I'll miss you too', Jack almost wanted to cancel the vet.

He knew he couldn't.

They let the dog sleep in Jake's room that night- a spare room that had quickly been taken over by Buzz Lightyear posters and a Shrek bedspread. Usually he slept in Sam and Jack's room, on a bed in the corner, but tonight they moved the bed into Jake's room, and watched as Jake let his hand hang over the bed to rest on Homer's head. They were both asleep in that same position when Jack checked in on them an hour later.

The next morning Jake got up and went to watch cartoons quietly in the living room. By ten o'clock Jack and Sam were awake and getting breakfast ready.

"Hey buddy, where's Homer?"

"Isn't he in the backyard?" asked Jake, suddenly aware that the dog wasn't with him.

"Nope"

"Ah, he must still be in my room", said Jake, moving to get up.

"I'll get him", said Sam, kissing the top of the boy's head as she walked by.

Sam walked into the room and found the dog exactly as they left him the night before- seemingly asleep on the dog bed next to Jake's bed. Sam, suspecting the worst, approached him hesitantly. Crouching, ignoring the slight pain in her knees, she placed her hand on Homer's head. She scratched behind his ear. She ran her hand over his back as she let a few tears fall, saddened and amazing at the same time. The dog never moved.

"Oh, Homer", she whispered. "You're a good boy. You're a good boy. I'll miss you boy. I'll miss you more than you'll even know. You're such a good boy."

She quickly got up and stood at the door to the kitchen/ living area. Subtly, as not to alert Jake just yet, she motioned to Jack. Stealing a look at Jake, confirming he was in fact engrossed in the television, he walked over and took Sam's outstretched hand. He noticed the tears, and a moment later his suspicions were confirmed. He knelt, just as Sam had, and ran his hands over the dog's back, behind his ears just as he liked and lightly over his eyes that were closed as though in sleep.

"He's gone", said Sam lightly from behind him, just so it had been said out loud, her voice full of grief.

"Yeah", whispered Jack. "On his own terms", he added, giving Homer a sad grin.

"I'm not sure I'd expect any less"

"Nope"

"Aunt Sam?"

She spun around and came face to face with Jake, standing half hidden behind the doorframe. If the conversation hadn't let him know, his Aunt's tears certainly did.

"He's gone?" he asked, desperately trying to hold in the tears.

"Yes, sweetheart. He's gone. He's in heaven now"

"All dogs go to heaven", muttered Jake, remembering a favourite movie of his childhood. Sam opened her arms and he stepped into them for a moment before pulling away and walking over to where Jack sat with Homer. Sitting next to him on the floor the boy hugged his dog, wrapping his arms and half his body around his back while one of his hands petted his head, scratching his ear just as he liked it. He pick up a paw and lifted it up and down, mimicking the 'shake' trick he'd taught the dog years ago.

Jack and Sam stood by the door for what seemed like hours, letting the boy cry for his lost friend- the one who had been there from the day he was born, helping him walk, protecting him at the park, winning him friends and school and ultimately being the only one who had listened without complaint to Jake's reasons why broccoli is the worst vegetable in the world.

When the tears had subsided and the sniffs were coming few and far between Sam walked over to the boy and gently lead him away while Jack got on the phone to inform the vet.

Sam took Jake to the back veranda for some air where they stood for a moment.

"You wanna call your mom?" asked Sam, rubbing her hand up and down the boy's arm.

Jake shook his head.

"I wanna make sure he gets a proper burial. Like he deserves. Then I'll call Mom"

"Hey buddy", said Jack, walking out to them. "I hope you don't mind, but I called your Mom. Her and Dad are gonna come over so we can all be here for Homer. That okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks Uncle Jack"

Sam nodded at Jack, thanking him. "Where do you think Homer would like to rest?"

Jake took a shuddering breath before answering. "I think under that tree", he said, pointing to the tree that boy and dog would sit under on weekends, having picnics and drinking Sam's fresh lemonade and watching Jack repaint the porch. The tree was in the middle of the backyard, set just forward of the fence line. Even without Jake there, it had been the dog's favourite place of shade. One side of the tree held a homemade swing that Jack had insisted on putting in.

"I think he'd love that"

"That was his favourite tree"

"Yes it was"

"We should put him on the side without the swing"

"Maybe a little bit around the front?"

"Yeah. So he can watch over us still. And so when I play on the swing I can see him"

"I think he'd love that, Jake"

"Sam?"

She noted the lack of her designation, but let it slide. Jake had only ever called her simply 'Sam' three times in his life. All when he was hurting.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really gonna miss him", said the boy. Whoever said children didn't understand the feeling of loss had obviously never buried their best friend. Sam did the only think she could and wrapped her arm around him while Jack placed his hand on her back. The dog had been their friend too, stepping in as their child when they'd not had one of their own. He'd been there when Sam had been away for a week on a conference for work, and had joined them on every road trip up to the cabin.

"I'm gonna miss him too, Jake. Your Uncle Jack and I loved Homer. We'll miss him too"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The funeral had been a simple deal. Mark had dug the hole and Jack had carried Homer outside while the women cried and comforted the inconsolable boy. They'd taken Jake inside while they actually buried him. Some things didn't need to be seen.

Jack had taken out his pocketknife and carved a message in the tree, deep enough that, even with time, it would remain, faded and overgrown, but there. Forever.

_Here lies Homer. _

_Jake's best friend._


End file.
